


Balance

by Miri1984



Series: This Ship Is Cursed [3]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Bondage, Light D/s, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 10:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20062414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: Zolf's POV from that one scene in Lessons Learned.Please note the content warnings. Lessons Learned was written before Zolf was confirmed Bi/Ace and as such the entire universe has moved into the realm of AU.





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butnotdrowning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butnotdrowning/gifts), [snarkbunny (bittercape)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittercape/gifts).

Zolf can see the cogs start to turn in Wilde’s head as he explains the situation with Sasano’s brother. Over the past month Wilde has let his guard down (more than a little) and though there are so many different layers to his facade that Zolf is surprised he can work his way through them, close proximity, understanding, intimacy, has given him insight.

Zolf can see that Wilde isn’t happy.

They ride to Iiyama and Wilde does not look at him. His knuckles are white on the pommel of his saddle and he sits bolt upright, barely moving enough with the motion of his horse to stop himself from jarring his joints. 

_ Should probably heal him when we get to the inn,  _ Zolf thinks to himself, then revises that thought into something different when Wilde bypasses the inn Sasano suggests.

Healing is obviously not what Wilde wants.

His suspicions are confirmed when he is pushed into a chair in their room and thoroughly, utterly kissed.

Zolf hasn’t exactly led the most adventurous life when it comes to sex but he can definitely appreciate the sheer need that pours off Wilde at this moment, the way his hands tangle in his hair and he gasps against Zolf’s mouth as though he is drowning and only Zolf can give him air. 

It does a lot for Zolf’s ego, to think that Wilde can want him this much, in a way Zolf will admit he’s never sought from anyone. To get it from Wilde seems utterly incongruous and he would deny it himself if he weren’t currently holding a squirming, panting lapful of the man.

He won’t deny, however, that he’s been thinking about what to do when Wilde came to him again. He won’t deny, however, that he has been planning. Planning it with all the meticulous care he imagines Wilde has planned every step of their journey. 

Wilde’s need for control is key, his need to know and understand and  _ see  _ is what drives him. 

So Zolf needs to take that away.

He pushes Wilde back onto the bed, flushing a little at Wilde’s soft sounds of protest, then fishes the rope and blindfold out of his pack. Wilde’s eyes fall on them and his lips part in a delicate “oh” that makes Zolf grin.

He sets them next to Wilde on the bed and helps Wilde undress. He’s a sailor, he knows knots and ropes, and he’s been a pirate, and he’s had to restrain people before as well, but this isn’t about pain and it isn’t about power, or at least it isn’t about Zolf having power over Wilde.

He isn’t sure if Wilde fully understands that.

In any case when he’s done, and Wilde is kneeling, flushed and naked on the bed, with his eyes covered, Zolf takes a moment to admire him. He remembers Wilde on the Aurora, a thousand years ago, water cascading over his skin, the carelessness of his beauty. Remembers how it had made him angry, then. 

It does not make him angry any more.

Zolf would never claim to be at home in his own body, at ease with it the way Wilde seems to be with his. It has failed him too many times  _ and yet been too stubborn to simply give up _ and Poseidon’s hand on him, Posiedon’s  _ favour, _ sits far too uneasily for him to ever believe entirely that the desire Wilde draws to himself, that he seems to have for others, could ever properly belong anywhere near Zolf Smith. So he doesn’t think about himself as he kisses and touches Wilde’s skin, he listens for the noises  _ Wilde  _ makes, feels for tension in muscles and smooths it away with delicate brushes of lips and fingertips. When he finally takes Wilde’s prick in his hands Wilde gasps and arches his back and Zolf comes back to himself, for a second, realising that he’s as aroused as Wilde is now, that his thorough and gentle exploration of Wilde’s body and Wilde’s needs have somehow translated into a desperate, aching, need in  _ him _ .

Part of Zolf is frightened by it.

“Still and quiet,” he whispers into the delicate skin at Wilde’s throat, and he can feel the flutter of Wilde’s pulse against his lips and cannot stop himself from sinking his teeth into flesh.

Wilde is doing so well. Wilde obeys, submits,  _ lets go  _ and Zolf takes himself in hand before he topples over an edge of his own into territory too dangerous to contemplate, at least not here, at least not now.

Despite the blindfold, Zolf can feel Wilde’s attention on him as he strokes himself to completion, focused, lightning sharp and unrelenting.

_ Gods  _ but it feels good.

When Zolf has caught his breath, Wilde allows himself to be pushed back onto the bed and Zolf settles between his thighs, drawing him in and working him to Wilde’s own climax, glad that Wilde’s hands are tied and cannot offer any encouragement or affection that might tip the delicate balance he’s managing to maintain. 

Wilde comes quickly. Zolf unties him. Zolf kisses him and praises him and removes the blindfold, running his fingers through Wilde’s hair, unable to yet stop touching, knowing he needs to.

Wilde’s wrists are marked with red, but his limbs are loose and languid and his smile is lazy and satisfied. 

_ I did that,  _ Zolf thinks to himself, as he lightly traces the marks on Wilde’s skin. 

He cannot stop himself from kissing Wilde’s wrists as he heals the wounds he has inflicted, but he lets his eyes slide away from Wilde’s afterwards.

He has to keep his balance, after all.


End file.
